Something Almost Divine
by livingmyths
Summary: A collection of random LJ drabbles. And maybe the occasional one-shot.
1. April Morning

The door swung open, and Lily's eyes twitched towards it irritably. She couldn't imagine who would be coming into the sixth-year girls' dormitory at this obscure hour, especially when she had expressly warned her roommates that she needed the morning to catch up on her history of magic homework. On a Hogsmeade day, no less!

"Morning, Evans," sang an alarmingly deep voice. Lily looked up and laid her eyes questioningly on none other than James Potter, Gryffindor's resident toerag. How he had managed to enter the girls' tower she had no idea. That boy never ceased to amaze her. Actually, she wasn't surprised in the least. Of all the immature, trouble-making teenage boys attending Hogwarts, James Potter was king. He would be the one to find a way around ancient school rules.

"Potter...?" Lily asked; it was more of a vocalized thought than a fully-formed question. For an instant, the briefest of seconds, Lily let her guard down, and the look of tense disapproval on her face was replaced by a combination of dismay and wonder.

James slid through the half-open door, balancing a breakfast tray precariously on his left arm. He grinned, ruffled his hair with his unencumbered hand, and sat down leisurely on Mary's bed.

"Enjoying your date with Emeric the Evil?" he smirked. "No? Well I brought you some breakfast. I hope you like eggs. Or waffles. Or croissants. Or anything you can possibly imagine, really."

Lily frowned at him, confused. Since when did James do things for her? Especially out of sheer kindness?

"Thanks, I guess. Croissants are great. Yum... Dat'sh goob. Why arn't you in Hogzhmeade wif erryone elshe?"

James held back a snort. Laughing at Lily now, when she wasn't snapping or yelling at him, was clearly the wrong tactic. He calmly explained that Sirius had gone to visit his cousin Andromeda and her family over the Easter holidays, Remus was once again sick and in the hospital wing, and Peter was on a date with Bertha Jorkins, a chubby but bright-eyed Hufflepuff fifth-year.

Having finished eating, Lily was suddenly back on alert.

"You have the entire castle and grounds to yourself on a sunny April morning, and you chose the Gryffindor sixth-year girls' dormitory for your mischief?" she quizzed, a critical spark back in her eye.

James as sharp as ever, replied that there was just too much food on his tray, and that he needed someone to share it with. As hard as Lily tried to prevent it, she could not help but let a hint of a smile slip from between her lips; she had never heard the usually witty James Potter make such a lame attempt at a joke.

James was leaning over to see Lily's sad excuse for an essay, so he missed her silly half-smile. All he heard was her standard irritated retort.

"Well, it seems as though I'm finished eating. Perhaps you should find someone else to clear your tray, hmmm?"

James pulled his hand back from Lily's unfinished homework and stood up to leave.

"All - all right then. I guess I will. Bye, Evans."

"See you 'round, Potter," Lily replied, a look on her face that James had never seen before. He nodded, stepped outside, and shut the door quietly. James was disappointed in himself. Today's conversation had gone as badly as ever. He was getting nowhere.

On the other side of the door, Lily was in a panic. Had she really just had a civil conversation with James Potter? The James Potter? Had she really just laughed at a lame joke and maybe, just in the slightest way, enjoyed herself? It wasn't possible. And yet, it was true. It wasn't possible, but it had happened.

Although James would never know and Lily would never tell him, her strong dislike for him began to crack long before seventh year. In fact, it was one sunny April morning in 1976 when Lily began to realize that maybe, just maybe, James Potter wasn't so bad after all.


	2. Ridiculously Irritating

That boy is always running his hand through his hair. During class, in the hallway, in the common room. He runs his hand through his hair when he's studying, when he's at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, and even high above the quidditch pitch. Always.

It couldn't annoy me more.

His ridiculous jet-black hair is forever rumpled. Its disarray has probably been permanently imprinted in his DNA. And everyone else loves it. I can't for the life of me think why. I've only ever seen him go for more than two minutes without disturbing it when he's angry. And I don't mean when one of his friends, who follow him around _religiously,_ turns his eyebrows green. I mean furious. And his fury is usually directed at me.

I guess it's not completely his fault. No, actually it is. Most of the time. He's so pigheaded that nothing matters more to him than his pride, except maybe his hair. I really do hate that hair. Still, he has no right to ask me out every five minutes and then insult me when I decline. Every time, without fail, he tells me to stop thinking that I'm better than everyone else. Shouldn't he just stop asking?

All right, maybe I irritate him on purpose sometimes. But I hate when he runs his hand through his hair like that! It's just nice to have a few minutes of peace.


	3. Clockwork

"Evans, will you go out with me?" James asked her again. He had asked her every day, like clockwork, since the beginning of third year. Her answer was always the same, and he knew it always would be, but he didn't care. Even now, nearly seven years since they first met on the train, he felt the same mysterious pull as he had then. Only this time, no longer a naïve eleven year old, he understood its meaning.

Like clockwork, Lily glanced at James' tanned face and messy back hair, and glanced away again. She turned towards her friends, rolled her eyes, and strolled into charms.

James dreamed of the day when Lily would say yes. He would turn to her, a familiar mischievous sparkle in his eyes, and ask her the same question he had been repeating for years. She would look up at him, past his glasses and into those same sparkling eyes with her deep green ones, then look down at her feet. He knew that if she ever did agree, it would be with some mumbled excuse about having changed her mind. She would want to mask her shyness, but her stuttering and looking down at her feet would give her away. James would grin his usual dazzling, lopsided grin and reach for Lily's hand, but he would change his mind in midair, and their fingers would barely brush together. James would finally realize the full weight and implications of her words, and laugh awkwardly; he had been waiting for this for years.

James couldn't foresee any time when Lily would accept his offer, but he kept asking anyway. When he first met Lily on the Hogwarts Express as an eleven-year-old, he had felt a strange urge like none he had ever felt before. He wanted to go into her compartment and ask her name, sit with her, and talk with her. He was turned off only by the sight of the greasy-haired boy in the compartment with her, and pulled away only by Remus, his long-time friend, who tugged him through the train to their chosen compartment.

So much had changed since that first day. James had met Sirius, a boy so unlike him yet with so much in common. Peter had later joined the group, rounding out their foursome for complete domination of the school. James had grown into his gangly legs and shaggy hair, and had gained popularity with everyone in the school. Even the teachers, who punished the marauders on a regular basis, had fallen for the boy with round glasses and messy hair.

Most of this didn't matter to James. Besides his friends, there was nobody in the school he wanted to be near more than Lily Evans. No, there was nobody in the world. James had everything a teenage boy could ever want, except for Lily. She was the only person in the school who wouldn't fall for his witty jokes and good looks, but she was the only one he wanted. He dreamed of the day when she would accept his offer.


	4. No

"Hey, Potter."

James looked up.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. Let's go together?"

He frowned.

"Of course I'm not going with you. Anyway, I already have a date."

"What? With who?"

"Take a guess," James replied, his face entirely serious but a sparkle in his eye. He touched Lily's hand, pecked her tentatively on the cheek, and smiled as he turned away.

"Same time as last week. See you 'round, Lil."


	5. Amortentia

James knew before the potion had even reached its soothing mother-of-pearl that it would smell of mint, lavender, and a hint of lemon. She loved mint and lavender, so of course he did, too. The lemon was reminiscent of better days, when James' parents were home all summer and he never worried as he glanced at the obituaries in the Prophet. Back before Voldemort's death eaters ran loose among wizardkind, Mrs. Potter had spent her summer afternoons in a lawn chair on the family's back porch, sipping lemonade. James stirred his potion slowly, counting mechanically and remembering his mother's sticky lemonade kisses. As the potion calmed from vibrant teal to silvery white, he inhaled deeply. The lavender, lemon, and mint intermingled perfectly, mixing without clashing, each seeming to disappear and appear again in a lively dance of scents. James passed his hand through his hair, satisfied, and ladled spoonfuls of his potion into a cool glass vial.

Lily leaned down towards her completed potion, her mind far away. She vaguely remembered Petunia coming home from science camp - Tuna was always slightly nerdy - and telling the family excitedly about the proper way to sniff chemicals. Lily smiled slightly to herself at the memory, and inhaled deeply. The scent wasn't at all what she'd expected. Instead of lavender or mint, Lily's favorite aromas, she smelled something entirely new and unfamiliar. It was a much deeper, earthier smell, like a combination between the thick leather of a quidditch glove and the scent of the forest right before rain. Though she hadn't expected the scent, Lily loved it right away; it made the tips of her toes tingle and a cool shiver run through her stomach. She smiled blissfully, and slowly tipped the potion into a vial.


	6. Forever

I woke up that morning more excited than I should have been. I mean, we'd been going out since summer; you'd think I'd have gotten over it by now. Still, I spent almost half an hour finding just the right top (it had to look good under my school cloak and by itself - you never know what the weather will be like in Hogsmeade), the perfect pair of shoes (I had to look good without being taller than him, which can be difficult at times) , and the ideal amount of makeup (Mary had perfected that one, but I still struggled).

I strolled down to breakfast with what Mary, sarcastic as always, called "an unusual pep in my step" and sat down with Sirius between us - the date wasn't supposed to start until ten, and I didn't want to seem too eager. I ate way more muffins than I should have, to the point that I felt sick. Actually, that was probably the nerves.

We waited for Filch to let us through; it was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, so he had to check every third year's permission slip. We somehow ended up at the back of the line; it could have had something to do with the fact that we were walking as slowly as humanly possible, laughing and holding hands.

The same held for the walk down to Hogsmeade; Mary pulled ahead with some of her friends from Hufflepuff, and I'm sure the rest of the marauders were off pulling pranks on some poor unsuspecting first year. The two of us walked through town, stopping in at Zonko's and Scrivenshaft's for some window shopping. We eventually went in the three broomsticks to buy some drinks and snacks, and took them out to sit on the lawn between Hogsmeade and the Shrieking Shack.

We laughed and talked and held hands and I was in heaven. I didn't care what the other marauders thought of it; he was my boyfriend and today was our day.

"Lily, he said, pale gray eyes twinkling, "I hope this lasts forever. You, me, September afternoons - this is perfect." I smiled and laughed, putting my head on his shoulder, but I knew that nothing could last forever.

We sat out on that lawn until the day drew to a close, watching the warm autumn sunset hand in hand until we heard Filch calling in the distance. We got up and ran through Hogsmeade, laughing and shouting, and walked back to the school hand in hand, just like we had been all day.

We reached the stairs to our respective dorms with the rest of Gryffindor not far behind. I took Peter's hand one more time and kissed him before he climbed the stairs to bed, smiling. As I turned to climb my stairs as well, I glanced back at James. I knew it killed him to see me with Peter every day, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was only sixteen and he was only sixteen, and I knew even if he didn't that nothing lasts forever.


	7. Exams

Despite the fact that James usually disdained anyone who put that much thought into schoolwork, he couldn't keep himself from feasting his eyes upon Lily and wondering what force of nature made her look like such a goddess and made him act like such a pervert.

UMM GAZING MAKES HIM SOUND MORE LIKE A PERVERT

gazing sounds creepy. glancing is fine.

CASSIE COLE JAMES IS NOT A PERVERT STOP TRYING TO MAKE HIM SOUND LIKE ONE!

gazing sounds like a boy hopelessly in love ;)

glancing is too fleeting. unless your going for fleeting.

well gazing makes it sound like he's staring creepily at her

YOU ALREADY USED GLANCING IN AN EARLIER DESCRIPTION. do not use it again.

THESAURUS TIME exactly... so who's looking it up? fine...

i am. i think we should use ogle or moon :) oh yeah, cuz THAT doesnt sound creepy AT ALL

noPe :) how about gawk? ;) or 'examine visually'

how about feast one's eyes upon... YUS!

Despite the fact that James usually disdained anyone who put that much thought into schoolwork, he couldn't keep himself from feasting his eyes upon Lily and wondering what force of nature made her look like such a goddess and made him act like such a pervert.

UMM GAZING MAKES HIM SOUND MORE LIKE A PERVERT  
gazing sounds creepy. glancing is fine.  
CASSIE COLE JAMES IS NOT A PERVERT STOP TRYING TO MAKE HIM SOUND LIKE ONE!  
gazing sounds like a boy hopelessly in love ;)  
glancing is too fleeting. unless your going for fleeting.  
well gazing makes it sound like he's staring creepily at her  
YOU ALREADY USED GLANCING IN AN EARLIER DESCRIPTION. do not use it again.

THESAURUS TIME exactly... so who's looking it up? fine...  
i am. i think we should use ogle or moon :) oh yeah, cuz THAT doesnt sound creepy AT ALL  
noPe :) how about gawk? ;) or 'examine visually'

how about feast one's eyes upon... YUS! URURG sorry cassie, i dont speak troll oops :P  
Do I have to call {you} an idiot now too?

oops

James hadn't studied. He vaguely remembered a late-night incident, probably the reason Sirius was now in the hospital wing, while James stared dumbfounded at the last three questions on his potions exam in the Great Hall.

There was nothing he could do. He looked over at Remus, who sat with his eyebrows creased in deep thought, eyes scanning his invariable perfect answers in search of nonexistent mistakes. James tried to catch Moony's eye, but he was too engrossed in the exam.

James glanced at Peter, who leaned over the desk with the tip of his quill in his mouth, his chin resting on his hand, and his right foot tapping nervously on the floor of the Great Hall. James knew better than to interrupt him; Peter tried the hardest out of them all, but he somehow kept the lowest grades in everything but charms. He was naturally gifted at charms, and his entire reputation rested precariously on that fact. Without charms, Peter would be just another Hogwarts student.

James looked around again. His gaze fell on Lily, three seats over in his same row. Her fiery orange hair was pulled uncharacteristically back into a tight bun to keep it from getting in her way. Sometime that morning a few thin strands had found their way out of her hair tie, framing her face with two perfect curls. James imagined her pulling our her bun, her waves tumbling down her shoulders all the way to her elbows. Even from a few seats away James could smell the soft scents of lavender that floated his way every time Lily moved. She sat with her eyebrows closely knit in thought; the tip of her quill barely touching her chin as it scrawled across the page. Every so often she would frown slightly, leaning closer to the paper to carefully scratch out an offending word or phrase. James could only imagine the thoughts going though her head, analyzing every last ingredient, checking and rechecking each step. She was probably the only Gryffindor student still fully focused on her exams; Remus would be finished by now, Peter was always nervous about something, and the rest of the house surely couldn't care as much about the test as Lily, the almost-Ravenclaw. Despite the fact that James usually disdained anyone who put that much thought into schoolwork, he couldn't keep himself from letting his gaze drift back towards Lily.

A/N: So... I apologize for any cheesiness in this chapter. I wrote it when I finished my math final, and it just seemed appropriate :) Also... I'd like you to know that this chapter was supposed to be simple, which it was until the other half of livingmyths and my friend PW decided to edit it very, very viciously. So basically... I hope you like it. Review please! :)


	8. Those Brief Moments

Sometimes Lily would lie awake at night, staring at James's sprawled form. She would watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest and think about what a mess they had gotten themselves into. She was only 19 and she was married, for crying out loud! But at some point in the night James would briefly regain consciousness. He would roll onto his side, pull Lily into an embrace, and whisper into her ear that he loved her. For those brief moments, she could forget that their parents were dead, that the war was taking over their lives, that every minute of every day held the possibility of tragedy. For those brief moments, she could believe that everything would be OK, because she had James. Only then could she finally drift into peaceful sleep.


End file.
